


The Last

by dorkpatroller



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Buckle up, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, get pumped, inspired by The Last Unicorn, sort of ongoing, still FE verse but the war played out different if it happened at all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:00:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22374538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkpatroller/pseuds/dorkpatroller
Summary: Edelgard is cursed with plague, and the only cure is something Hubert isn't sure still exists. He'll find it though. He'll find it, and he'll save her, because that is his purpose.Ferdinand is looking for them. Where have they all gone? He'll find them, and he'll save them.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	The Last

_ When the last eagle flies, over the last crumbling mountain, _

_ And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain, _

_ In the shadow of the forest, though she may be old and worn, _

_ They will stare, unbelieving, at the last unicorn.  _

_ \--The Last Unicorn, America.  _

“I’m afraid there is little to be done,” the doctor whispers. He steps away from the bed of the empress, setting her hand down on the sheets and moving closer to Hubert, to discuss the results of his examination. 

Edelgard is ill. Healers have looked after her to prolong her health, but little can be done without knowing the cause of her plague. Hubert has sent for doctors far and wide, and they’ve all come up with nothing. Every day he watches her grow weaker and weaker. The woman he saw cut through the heavy tides of war, who drove them to victory with her bloody axe in hand, but now she’s reduced to her bed, pale and fragile. 

Every second that passes has an itching at his wrist. Even now he thinks about the tiny numbers, ticking down. They say that there’s no way of truly knowing who your soulmate is until the moment they die. There’s no way of knowing until that timer runs out, and the person you love most draws their last breath. A timer ticking down to the moment your soulmate dies… what a cruel thing to wear on your sleeves like a bracelet or a watch. 

Hubert doesn’t know that Edelgard is his soulmate one way or another. Her soulmate fell in the war. Her timer is stopped, numbers frozen. It’s a tribute to the power of making your own fate. Her soulmate was never meant to die young. Outside forces can change even the sands of time. 

If Edelgard is his soulmate then she has very little time left--the timer on his wrist has barely a moon remaining. Be it platonic, romantic, or simply that his soul is meant to serve hers, her death seems to be rapidly approaching. All that can be done is to change the flow of time.

“If there is little to be done,” Hubert whispers, looking over his shoulder briefly, “That means there is  _ something _ to be done.” 

The doctor pulls the mask from his face and draws his wrinkled lips into a deep frown. “There is one thing,” he says. “An elixir made from rare ingredients. I fear you won’t find it in time if it were even possible.” 

“I think you’ll find I’m willing to visit the ends of the earth. Tell me what you need.” 

The doctor shifts uncomfortably, and maybe that’s when it occurs to Hubert that the ingredient isn’t strictly expensive, it’s that it isn’t available. Anywhere. “To make the elixir to cure this plague, we will need to grind the horn of a unicorn.” 

“I see.” 

The doctor gathers his things to leave. Silence hangs over the room, but Hubert returns to Edelgard’s bedside and draws the canopy to block out the light. She’s already fallen back to sleep. He watches the rise and fall of her chest, labored and slow. 

There are no unicorns left. They’ve all been driven out of Adrestia, to the ends of Fodlan, to the edge of Faerghus. The Ruined King keeps them there, guarding them, he claims. The land is dying around them without their blessings, crops struggle to grow as vibrant, and people… Ah, well. People will clearly die next. Still, if Edelgard needs the horn of a unicorn so be it. Hubert has enough time to journey to Faerghus and back before his timer reaches zero. He can stop her death. 

Still, even as he walks away to pack for his journey, he wonders about the woman who died in battle that day. He thinks about the cry of anguish that left Edelgard’s lips. He thinks about her stopped timer. He is certainly not  _ her _ soulmate. 

Even so, he’s sworn his life to her. He was born for that. He’ll die for that. It makes sense to him that he would have a timer completely reserved for her, regardless of her love for someone else. 

…

He takes very little with him. He needs to move swiftly on this quest. Undetected. An army would only draw attention, and the troops will be better spent watching over Edelgard in his absence. There is a part of him that enjoys it. Hubert doesn’t have time for silly things like enjoying fresh air when there’s work to be done. He shouldn’t be enjoying it now, knowing that his focus is to find and slay a unicorn and nothing more. 

It’s hard not to enjoy it, though. Although the land isn’t as vibrant as it was before the unicorns vanished, it’s still beautiful in its own, dim ways. Trees and flowers scramble to stand taller than others, reaching for the sunlight but never stretching far enough. The path he takes is one that many have walked before, but animals still gather near without fear. 

It would be very peaceful, if not for the undignified yelp of a vibrant fool. It draws Hubert’s attention away from the scenery and towards the path ahead. He’s stumbling over himself, waving his arms as if he’s lost his balance, but otherwise he’s fine. There are no attackers, animal or not. But he catches himself and with a huff, he adjusts the collar of his shirt. He simply tripped. 

He’s difficult to look at. His hair is bright, too bright, obnoxious even. His clothes are dull, by comparison, but still a little too flashy for a commoner walking down the street. They’re well kept. His boots and leggings are clean despite the dusty trail. He huffs but when he turns his head he catches sight of Hubert and he smiles. 

A fair smile, despite the uncomfortable orange shade to his hair. “Are you quite alright?” Hubert asks, but he doesn’t stop the slow trot of his horse, nor does he actually care to wait for an answer. Needless to say, the man walks at his side, with his hands folded behind his back. 

“Splendid, actually. I only just--” 

“Tripped. Yes, I saw. On your own feet.” 

“Right. Well, no. I beg your pardon? I was tripped by a small fox. You saw him too, did you not?” 

No. He saw no such thing. “I saw nothing more than a clumsy man.” That’s all that he feels is left to say, but even so the man continues walking at his side. Silently, for about forty-two seconds. 

“Well, there was a fox.” Then, while he pulls a ribbon from his pocket and begins to tie back his hair, he goes on to say, “Have you no manners? You are the one who began this conversation, and yet you have not bothered to ask for my name.” 

“I wouldn’t call it a conversation.” 

He opens his mouth again, but then huffs and closes it. It’s amusing, to say the least. There’s a bit more silence, it hangs between them comfortably for a second or two, and then awkwardly as it progresses. Finally, Hubert is forced to ask, “If I were to ask for your name would it convince you not to follow me?” 

“I am not following you. This is a trail, and I am simply walking it. By all means, I was here before you. You appear to be following  _ me.”  _ His voice is too loud. It’s like he doesn’t know what volume control is. Hubert is barely a pace away from him--he can hear him just fine. 

“Fine,” Hubert says. “What is your name?” 

“Thank you for asking! My name is Ferdinand von Aegir! Might I know yours, as well?” 

“Hm.” Ferdinand von Aegir. Hubert has never heard of that family name. He’s quite familiar with nearly all of the local nobility, especially the families who live within walking distance of this trail, and yet here he is. “My name is Hubert. Now leave me be.” 

“Were we not walking the same path, perhaps.” Ferdinand doesn’t seem to stumble in his steps now. He keeps his shoulders back and his chin held high, with his hands folded neatly behind him. He looks like the perfect image of nobility.

It bothers Hubert even more, knowing that his name sparks no recognition. That he’s on foot doesn’t make sense. There isn’t much of anything that should be within walking distance, and he hasn’t even got a bag of supplies with him. He could have fallen from the sky for all Hubert knows. 

“I am headed to the Ruined Kingdom,” Ferdinand goes on to say, unprompted. “You failed to ask, so I thought it best to tell you.” 

Ah, well, of course he is. Where else would he be going, if not to Hubert’s destination? He rolls his eyes. “Might I ask why?” 

“To free the unicorns, of course. I have heard a rumor that they are being kept there by some sort of beast, and the land is dying without them. It seems an act of heroism is in order.” 

Are there many rumors about it? The land hasn’t crumbled beneath their feet yet. “I see. And did you plan to slay that beast with your impressive footwork? I see that you are unarmed and ill-prepared.” 

Ferdinand has a cocky smile for most of this conversation, but it falls when Hubert mentions his lack of a weapon. Then he shrugs his shoulders and turns his attention back to the path. “Where is it that you are heading, then?” 

He shouldn’t say. The mission he is on is critical to preventing Edelgard’s death, and every second that passes the timer on his wrist gets a little bit closer to her death. He can’t spare any extra time on crazy men, even if they’re touched in the head. 

“In this direction, for a while,” he says instead. “Though I won’t protect you from the Lion, should we see him.” 

Ferdinand is quiet for a moment after that, but sure enough, he nods his head and accepts that fate. “Do you know much about him?” he asks, and the way he tilts his eyes up to meet Hubert’s, the way he looks nervous for a moment, it’s truly thrilling. What a fool this man is to make a point to journey towards something he’s certainly afraid of. “The Lion, that is. I have heard little of the legends.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Hubert says. “But I know the common rumors. The Midnight Lion roams the roads surrounding the Fallen Castle, chasing the unicorns and herding them into his territory. He collects them for the Ruined King, who keeps them for his own pleasure. They say the Lion will hunt only the unicorns, for humans aren’t his prey, but there are just as many stories of men who were slain by it.” 

They’re children’s stories, they hold little value. The Ruined King stole away the unicorns as a tactic of battle. The lands outside of Faerghus are going to wither without the magic the unicorns grant them. 

“What do you suppose he did to them?” Ferdinand asks. Hubert doesn’t think the king has done anything at all. They’re probably all kept in a field somewhere, waiting to make their escapes. Immortal beings are fickle things, they don’t do well trapped in one place. “Do you think they’re alive?” 

“They must be.” They must be alive because Hubert needs just one. One unicorn so that he can take one horn. It will be a cruel thing. There’s something about killing a unicorn that feels far more dastardly than killing a man. But he’ll make it a swift death, and it will have saved the life of the empress. It will be a necessary death. 

“I think they are as well,” Ferdinand says. 

“Obviously, that you’ve taken it upon yourself to free them.” 

His smile comes back, this time determined and bright. “I will!” 


End file.
